The law stands so to this day." "Think you, in any sudden case, a man could do as much _now ?_" "He _could_," answered the lawyer; "but where's the man who _would ?_ Only one who must die in any chance, and then none but a murderer, I should say." "I don't know--I don't know that," said Ralph, rising with ill-concealed agitation, and stalking out of the room, without the curtest leave-taking.
VI.

On Tuesday, Ralph was walking through Kendal on his northward journey.
The day was young.

Ralph meant to take a meal at the old coaching house, the Woodman, in Kirkland, by the river Kent, and then push on till nightfall.
The horn of the incoming coach fell on his ear, and the coach itself--the Carlisle coach, laden with passengers from back to front--swept into the courtyard of the inn at the moment he entered it afoot.
There was a little commotion there.

A group of the serving folk, the maids in their caps, the ostlers bareheaded, and some occasional stable people were gathered near the taproom door.

The driver of the coach got off his box and crushed into the middle of this company.